


How Ian Stole Christmas

by Pigzxo



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigzxo/pseuds/Pigzxo
Summary: Prompt: After receiving a humiliation at school, Ian starts to hate Christmas. For three years, he does everything he can to destroy it. Then he finds out that this year, a nerd named Mickey Milkovich is going to throw a Christmas party, and he'll do anything he can to stop it.





	

Three years earlier...

            Ian kept his head down in high school. He did his homework on time, didn’t speak up in class, and most definitely didn’t provoke any of the popular kids. Of course, it made it harder to be invisible when his brother, Lip, had made a huge scene when he dropped out in senior year. Everyone knew Ian as “that kid whose brother lost it in the middle of a titration lab” and nothing Ian could do, not even trying to fade into the background, prevented that name from sticking.

            So it wasn’t exactly a surprise that Ian got picked on. He knew he was bound to be picked on. He knew the cool kids in his grade would take any excuse to shove him into a locker or call him names or steal his stuff if he left his locker unattended. And he knew he had no friends because no one else wanted to be in the line of fire. It was fine. It was all fine. There was only one week and one semester left to go before high school was over and he could disappear into the depths of college and become a completely new person.

            The only problem was the last week before Christmas was always the most unruly, undisciplined, crazy week for him. It also happened to be the anniversary of Lip storming out of the school in a huff and no one let him forget it. Last year, Ian had faked sick through the whole week to avoid it. This year, Fiona had pulled him out of bed and shoved him out the door, telling him that she wouldn’t let him fail a whole unit of science again just because he couldn’t take a few hits. She said it with a smile and gave him a kiss, but Ian still bristled at the words.

            The week had been silent so far. It was Wednesday and Ian had a relatively easy time walking to class. He got a few names yelled at him, was shoved into the lockers once, but that was nothing compared to a normal week. In fact, the whole week had been a breeze. It had Ian on edge.

            He went into homeroom all the same knowing he couldn’t get home in time to catch the phone if the school called to tell Fiona he’d skipped class. She was probably sitting right next to the landline _waiting_ for that call.

            Ian pulled his Secret Santa present out from his backpack and put it on top of the pile gathering at the back of the room. He didn’t see any packages with his name on it, but if the worst that happened to him this week was that whoever got his name conveniently forgot to buy him a gift, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

            Wednesday went by without a hitch and then Thursday too.

            Ian came to school on Friday with his heart in his throat and his stomach in his shoes. He checked the pile of gifts for  his name again as he walked past them. Nothing. But that was okay. If the popular kids wanted to humiliate him by keeping him out of some stupid, childhood tradition, that was fine by him. He tried to swallow his heart. He tried to tell himself that that was all it was going to be. No present.

            He sat down and saw there was a piece of paper with his name on it sitting on his desk. He looked around for the culprit, saw that no one was looking at him, and opened the note. All it said was: _Say cheese._

Ian frowned. As far as threats went, this wasn’t one of the better ones that had been thrown his way. But at least it was a clue. They were planning on taking some kind of picture. Ian could deal with an embarrassing photo of himself floating around the school for a couple of months. He crumpled the note and dropped it on the floor.

            A few minutes later, the first bell rung and the teacher called the class to order. She picked two volunteers to hand out the presents. Ian waited patiently as the two girls moved around the room dropping off brightly coloured packages. Despite the teacher asking them to wait, kids ripped into their packages as soon as they got them. The girls finished their rounds and sat back down to open their own gifts.

            The teacher looked around and her eyes landed on Ian. Ian gave her a pleading look, one he hoped said _please don’t make a big deal out of this_ , but either the look didn’t say that or the teacher didn’t care. She clapped her hands to bring the class to attention and said, “All right. Who had Ian? It isn’t fair that he doesn’t get a gift.”

            Ian opened his mouth to protest, to say everything was fine, but he was cut off when Liam King stood from his seat. He flashed his best smile – something paid for and polished, no doubt – and said, “I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t forget, I promise. It’s simply that my present to Ian couldn’t be wrapped.”

            Ian glared daggers at Liam but all he got in response was a wink. Ian had half a mind to walk out of the classroom right then and there, but whatever surprise Liam had planned would certainly stop him at the door. So he froze to his seat, curled his hands into fists, and waited.

            “Please welcome,” Liam started, “Santa Claus!”

            Ian was thrown enough that he looked to the door along with everyone else. And, sure enough, a man dressed as Santa Claus walked through the door with a hearty laugh. He started to throw candy canes around the room to the delight of the other students. Then he took the bag from over his shoulder and dumped its contents into the middle of the room. Condoms, wrapped in red and green. The class laughed but Ian wasn’t quite sure how this was supposed to be humiliating to him and not to Liam.

            “Now,” said Santa Claus in his roughest voice once he reached the middle of the classroom, “where is this Ian Gallagher I’ve heard so much about?”

            Ian stayed silent, but every eye in the room went to him, waiting.

            Santa Claus turned to him. “Here you are.” He walked forward, grabbed Ian’s desk, and moved it out of the way. “Now, tell me, Ian, have you been naughty or nice this year?”

            Ian tried to find the trick in the man’s eyes. He had leaned in rather close, a smirk on his lips, and Ian could see he was quite young to be playing Santa. “Nice,” Ian said, hoping to derail whatever the hell was going on.

            Santa clicked his tongue. “I think you’re lying to me, Ian. Because you’re definitely on my naughty list.” The man pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and rolled it out with a flick of his list. In neat calligraphy, several names had been written, including _Ian Gallagher_ marked in red.

            Whatever was going on, Ian couldn’t help but feel pleased that Liam had spent way more than twenty dollars on his gift.

            “Guess I’m naughty then,” Ian said.

            “Do you know what Santa does to bad boys, Ian?” The man tilted Ian’s chin up with his finger and Ian’s blood ran cold. He suddenly knew exactly what was going to happen, but he couldn’t move from his chair. Santa whispered, “He punishes them.”

            “Don’t,” Ian said.

            Santa smiled and slapped him on the cheek lightly. Then he stepped back and pulled off his pants to reveal a tight, sparkly red thong underneath that did nothing to hide the size of his length. Ian tore his eyes away as quickly as he could. He heard several girls scream and the teacher yell for this to stop, but apparently the stripper had been told to ignore all of that because when Ian dared to open his eyes again, the man’s shirt was off, revealing six-pack abs, and he was shaking his package right in Ian’s face.

            A second later, the man ripped off his beard and Santa hat, revealing a nicely chiseled face and a light dusting of stubble. He then grabbed the back of Ian’s chair and thrust his crotch up into Ian’s face. Ian did his best not to look, willed his body not to react. He tried to focus on the chaos the room was in, the laughter and the shrieks and the teacher rapidly speaking into the phone. But there was only so much self-control he could have when a practically naked man was grinding up against him.

            “Please stop,” Ian breathed out.

            The man’s hand touched the back of his neck and stroked his skin in small circles. “Relax,” he whispered. “Your friend paid for the whole half hour.”

            “You’re in the middle of a high school.”

            “Paid double for that.”

            “Please get off.”

            The man rolled his hips and Ian needed to bite through the skin of his lip to stop his groan. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off first?” the man whispered.

            Ian closed his eyes tight and prayed to high heaven that this would end soon. And someone, somewhere, must have heard him because a minute later security was at the door of the classroom and thirty seconds after that, one of the guards had a hand on the stripper’s arm. The man simply smiled, raised his hands, and backed away with the officer. Ian sent up a silent thank you prayer that lasted approximately half a second before the class started laughing and a camera started flashing.

            Ian opened his eyes and took in the sight that was being documented on film. A Santa stripper being pulled away by security, himself hard and on display for the whole class, a smiling Liam with a camera. Liam stepped close and took a photo of Ian’s crotch. With a smirk, he said, “Knew you’d like that, you little fag.”

            Ian finally found the strength to move. He stood and shoved Liam back before running from the room, straight for the nearest restroom. He shut himself up in a stall, sat down on the toilet, and started to sob. He’d lasted three and a half years at this school without coming out, had expected to last the next six months as well. No such luck.

 

Present day...

            Ian sat on the bed in his dorm room tying his sneakers when there was a knock at his door. “Come in,” he called.

            His friends Eve and Tyler walked in. Tyler plopped down on his roommate’s bed and grabbed the nearest thing – a DisneyWorld snow globe – to start playing with. Eve leaned back against the door with her arms crossed.

            “We have bad news,” Eve said.

            “We don’t know it’s bad news,” Tyler said.

            Eve shot him a look. Then she met Ian’s eyes. “You’re staying over Christmas, right? Like you do every year?”

            Ian shrugged. “Don’t have the money to go home.”

            “Then it is bad news,” Tyler said.

            Ian looked between the two of them, but neither said anything. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his desk chair and shrugged it on. “If you’re not going to tell me, I was about to go to the gym.” He picked his duffel bag off of the floor, gave them both one more look. “Last chance.”

            Neither of them said a thing, so Ian headed towards the door. Eve didn’t move when he approached. She said, “You know how for the last two years you’ve managed to suck the life out of the holidays by saying it’s unfair to celebrate Christmas in the dorms because not everyone celebrates Christmas?”

            “Yeah?”

            Eve shot one last look at Tyler, who must have decided he was too interested in the snow globe to help. She sighed. “Well, there’s an underground movement against University policy this year. So the dorm’s gonna celebrate Christmas and you can’t stop it.”

            Ian frowned and dropped his duffel bag. “I’ll just report them to the RA.”

            “Right. And you could.”

            “But?”

            “The RA’s heading the movement,” Tyler said.

            “What?” Ian said. “Bullshit. The RA has to follow University policy. Plus he’s such a stickler for the goddamn rules anyways—”

            “Apparently he loves Christmas,” Eve said.

            “Move,” Ian said.

            “Why?” Eve said. “What are you going to do?”

            “I’m going to go talk some sense into him. After all, he’s a fucking pussy, right?” Ian looked at the other two for confirmation and neither would meet his eyes. “Come on. He caught us with weed that one time and as soon as I challenged him he backed the fuck down.”

            “Christmas seems really important to him,” Eve said. She gave Ian the most sympathetic look she could muster and shrugged. “Apparently he’s managed to throw an underground party like this every year in his dorms. And he’s gotten reported before too. As long as he includes other holidays and religions, the school can’t stop him.”

            “Then I’ll do it myself.”

            “How?”

            Ian sighed and stepped back to sit on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know.” He glanced over at Tyler who’d finally sat up and put the snow globe down. Ian caught his eye and smiled weakly. “Help me brainstorm?”

            Tyler nodded. Eve joined him on the end of the bed. And they started to plan.

 

Ian went to find the RA the next day. He’d never dealt with the guy much – other than in the rare situations where he and his friends got caught breaking the rules – but he knew enough to know the guy was always in his room if he wasn’t at class. And classes were over, exams were few and far between, and the RA’s door was marked with a huge yellow star so you could always find him.

            Ian stopped before the door and read the whiteboard, which said: _Mickey Milkovich. RA. Knock if you need me._ Hesitating just a second, Ian practiced his smile, breathed out the words he had practiced, and then knocked.

            There was movement behind the door. Then it opened just an inch to reveal about half of Mickey’s face and his naked torso. “Hey,” Mickey said, his breath a little shallow. “Ian, right? Can this wait?”

            Ian’s faked smile twisted into something more natural as he took a step away from the door with his hands raised. “Sure. How long do you need?”

            “Umm...” Mickey glanced over his shoulder and a second later a pair of lips pressed against his. There was a whispered conversation, something about Mickey needing to take care of the residents, and then the door opened.

            The first thing Ian registered was that Mickey was clad only in his underwear and half hard. The second thing he noticed was that the person coming out of the room was most decidedly not a girl, but the tall, dark and handsome RA from the floor below. The guy smiled at Ian as he passed, offered a slight wave, and then disappeared down the hall. Ian couldn’t help but watch him go.

            “What do you want?” Mickey said, his voice like a sigh.

            When Ian turned back, the other man already had jeans on and was pulling a dirty grey t-shirt over his head. He met Ian’s eyes with a blank look, blue eyes like electricity running through water. Whatever erection he had was gone, but Ian couldn’t help looking down just to check for sure.

            Mickey snapped in his face. “You needed something?”

            “Right.” Ian forced himself to focus on the plan even though heat was stirring in his stomach. He stepped into Mickey’s doorway and leaned against the frame. “Umm... I’m here to talk about your Christmas party.”

            Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Who told you about that?”

            “My friends,” Ian said. “Don’t know how they found out though.”

            Mickey nodded. “Look, I know you’ve headed up the whole Christmas-is-exclusion campaign since you got here. And I understand your point of view completely, but this is a completely inclusive celebration. You’re welcome to report me to the school, but they’ve found in my favour before.” He paused for a moment and licked his lips. “Is there any particular holiday you would like included? Anything I can do to make you feel better about the whole event?”

            Ian opened his mouth to reply, but shut it almost immediately. He hadn’t expected Mickey to know about his campaign. He’d kept it relatively secret in order to stop people from hating him. People like Mickey who apparently loved Christmas.

            “I could keep the decorations out of your corner of the hall?” Mickey suggested. “If that would help?”

            Ian shook his head. His brain raced to find a new solution, but then he stopped himself. Mickey was trying to accommodate him, even if he did know what Ian stood for. So maybe the old plan would work anyways.

            “Can I help?” Ian said. “With the preparations and stuff. That way I can make sure that, you know, everything’s in order.”

            “Sure. I could use the help. It’s usually a one-man show.”

            Ian smiled. “Great. So... umm... what can I do?”

            “I was going to go get some decorations this afternoon. If you’re not busy, you could come?”

            Ian agreed and then awkwardly stepped out of Mickey’s room. When the door closed, he took a deep breath. He still wasn’t quite sure what the plan was – he could pretend to love Christmas for a while, buy some decorations, keep Mickey guessing, but he didn’t know how that would lead to sabotage. He’d just have to figure it out as he went.

 

For the next few days, Ian and Mickey spent a lot of time together. The vast majority of that time meant holing up in Mickey’s room and stringing together paper decorations while Christmas music played. Ian tried to pretend it didn’t annoy him half as much as it did.

            It was on the fifth day that Ian finally got up the courage to ask something that had been bothering him. Because Mickey, despite being a bit of a goody-two-shoes and an RA, was a desperately fucked up person with a shit family worse than Ian’s and some weird habits. So Ian just didn’t understand how Christmas could be so important to him. So he asked.

            “Hey, Mick,” he said as he cut out snowflakes. “Why is Christmas so important to you?”

            Mickey shrugged. He kept his eyes down as he said, “It used to be my mom’s favourite holiday.” Ian thought that he might not say anything else, but he added, “She got all these decorations and hid them in the basement and on Christmas Eve she’d get my dad blackout drunk, drive him halfway across the city and dump him in some snow bank, and while she was gone, we’d dress up the whole place. When she got back, she’d tuck us into bed with promises of presents we weren’t expecting and Santa coming down the chimney and we never believed her, but somehow the next morning there’d be presents under the tree.”

            Mickey smiled at the memory. “Of course, we had to get up really early to open the presents and then take everything down, because dad was always back by noon. But Christmas morning always meant a lot, you know? Because for a few hours, we were safe and happy and it felt like we might just be a normal family.”

            “So you do this whole secret Christmas party thing because...?”

            “For her.”

            “Yeah, but, why not just go home?” Ian said.

            Mickey’s smile faded and it was several long seconds of silence before he spoke again. “She died about three years ago. On Christmas day too, if you can believe it.”

            “Sorry,” Ian said. “Did you... did you know it was coming?”

            Mickey laughed and rubbed a hand down his face. “While, I fucking should have, shouldn’t I? I mean, it was only going to be so long before Dad found out what she was doing and then... what else was he going to do?”

            “What?”

            “Nevermind. How’s the snowflake?”

            “Are you saying your dad—”

            “Yeah,” Mickey snapped. “Now shut the fuck up about it.”

            Ian pursed his lips. Instead of saying something, he carefully unfolded the snowflake he was making to show Mickey the pattern. He didn’t get a smile in return, so he knocked their shoulders together in a comforting manner. Still no smile. Ian sighed and grabbed the next piece of construction paper.

            “Seen your boyfriend lately?” Ian said. “Or has he gone home for the holidays?”

            “Boyfriend?” Mickey said, confused.

            “You know. The RA from downstairs? He came out of your room when you were in your underwear?”

            Mickey still stared at Ian blankly.

            Ian smiled. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know. I’m...” Ian almost swallowed his words, but then he said it. He’d never said it to anyone who wasn’t family before and it made his heart beat in a fast and funny way. “I’m gay too.”

            A smile broke over Mickey’s lips as he held in a laugh. “Yeah, I know. If it’s supposed to be a secret, you’re not very good at hiding it.”

            “What?”

            “Oh, come on. You basically had a heart attack when you saw me in my underwear. And you watched Luke walk all the way down the hall. Not to mention you’ve been hitting on me non-stop pretty much since we started hanging out—”

            “I have not.”

            Mickey tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. Then, in what Ian assumed was supposed to be an imitation of him, Mickey said, “Do you think we should get mistletoe for the party? I bet you’d look good dressed up as an elf. What’s your preference? Top or bottom?”

            “The last one was about bunk beds!”

            “Sure.”

            Ian shoved Mickey. “Fuck off.”

            “At least now I know why you haven’t made a move,” Mickey said. “You thought I had a boyfriend.”

            “Not your boyfriend?”

            “I don’t do boyfriends. I fuck for fun and that’s about it.”

            “Really? You seem like the boyfriend type.”

            “I’m full of surprises, Gallagher.”

            Ian found that he suddenly couldn’t look away from Mickey’s eyes. “Yeah?” Ian said, fighting to keep his voice steady and playful. “What other surprises you got hidden up your sleeves, Mick?”

            “I’m not telling.”

            “Then I’ll just have to get your shirt off, find out what’s up your sleeves myself.”

            Mickey laughed. “That’s possibly the worst pick-up line ever.”

            “Fuck you,” Ian said. He grabbed Mickey by the back of the neck and kissed him hard. It took a moment for the other man to respond, but as soon as he did, Ian moved to straddle Mickey. He kissed him rough and dirty, then teased his fingers under the hem of Mickey’s shirt. He pulled it up and over Mickey’s head, started to kiss Mickey’s neck.

            Mickey hummed in pleasure. “You know,” Mickey said, “you move kind of slow.”

            Ian laughed and then stood up. “Strip, then.”

            Mickey gave him a look like he might protest and then quickly complied.

 

The next three days were filled with party preparations and fucking. Mostly fucking. Ian would find any excuse to distract Mickey with a kiss and then more than a kiss. He almost forgot that he was there to ruin the party – almost. Distracting Mickey became part of the plan. The less they got done, the less there was that Ian had to ruin.

            The morning of Christmas Eve, Ian convinced Mickey to move all the decorations into his dorm room, just in case anyone felt like telling on them. He wasn’t sure it was a good excuse, but Mickey, lazy and tired and curled up in Ian’s arms, probably would have agreed to anything at that moment. So Ian took all the decorations and stashed them in his room.

            Then he spent the rest of the day debating with himself. It would take minimal effort to throw all the stuff away. But he wasn’t sure how he could explain that to Mickey. Not that he needed to explain anything to Mickey. Fucking was fucking to Mickey. He probably didn’t give half a shit about Ian or what Ian did. And yeah, he’d be mad, but the hate sex would probably be pretty fantastic.

            So Ian took all their hard work down to the university dumpsters and threw it in. He cancelled the food and drink orders Mickey had put in and started to tell the people still left on the floor that the party wasn’t happening. He decided that if Mickey asked, he’d say the university had shut it down.

            The only problem was that Mickey wasn’t a fucking idiot. And Ian really should have seen that coming. At three o’clock, once Ian had finished his rounds and flopped down on his bed to feel bad about himself and good about destroying Christmas, there was a knock on his door. Then, before Ian could even sit up, Mickey entered the room.

            “What the fuck are you doing?” Mickey snapped.

            Ian sat up and tried to play innocent. “What are you talking about?”

            “Where are the decorations, Ian?” Mickey said. “It’s not like you’ve got a lot of room in here to hide them. And what about the food? The drinks? I should be seeing them coming up here soon, right?”

            Ian shrugged. “Maybe they’re late.”

            “Fuck you,” Mickey snapped. “I told you why this was important to me and you just shitted all over it.”

            “I didn’t do—”

            “Shut the fuck up. Ten people have told me today that _you_ said the party was cancelled. So what is it, Ian? Was my party not inclusive enough for you? Do you just like ruining things for other people?”

            “The university—”

            “The university hasn’t heard shit about the party.” Mickey shook his head. “You didn’t think I’d check with them just in case that was the problem?”

            Ian opened his mouth to reply, but he had nothing.

            “Congrats, Ian. You stole Christmas. That’s what you wanted, right?”

            Ian still couldn’t find the words to reply.

            Mickey faked a laugh and then stepped back towards the door. “You know, I thought you were actually someone I could trust. But I guess that I should have learned people like that don’t exist, right? There’s only assholes and dickheads. And I guess you’re a combination of both.”

            “Mick—”

            “Don’t talk to me. Ever.” Mickey slammed the door on his way out.

            Ian fell back onto the bed. His stomach curled in on itself and he suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. But he reminded himself, no, he’d done what he’d had to do. Mickey would forgive him eventually. Or not. But did it really matter in the long run whether or not Mickey ever bothered to talk to him again? Ian had destroyed the party. Goal accomplished.

            He couldn’t find the energy to go to the gym or do anything else, so he curled up in his bed and watched bad YouTube videos for hours. The feeling in his stomach – guilt, he thought it might be guilt – only got worse as the day wore on.

            At ten o’clock, he headed for the showers. He was just about to turn the water on when he heard two people enter the room, talking loudly. One of them was Mickey and the other voice Ian didn’t recognize.

            Mickey said, “There’s nothing I can do now. Weeks of preparation went into this party; it can’t just go up overnight.”

            The other person started to whine and Ian turned on the water, hot. He stayed in the shower until he was sure Mickey had left. He forced himself to look in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. Whatever hurt he had heard in Mickey’s voice, whatever grief, Ian had put it there. He had made Mickey feel bad and the day before the anniversary of his mom’s death.

            “Fuck,” Ian whispered. “Fuck.”

            He went back to his room and quickly got dressed before leaving the building. He pulled all the decorations out of the dumpster and started to carry them back into the dorm. He had to wait another hour for the life of the dorm to die down, for people to go to sleep, before he could start decorating.

            He put everything up in record time. Then he started baking. He stole things from the cupboards that had people’s names on them, but figured they probably wouldn’t mind when they saw the Christmas party alive and well.

            At some point in the night, Ian must have fallen asleep because he woke the next morning to the sound of people chattering. He blinked open his eyes to see a meager crowd outside the dorm lounge, all whispering to each other, some of them staring at him.

            Ian looked around the survey his work. The decorations were in working condition, the food was out on the tables, and he’d even managed to wrangle a Christmas tree into one corner. He pushed himself out of the chair he’d crashed in and walked to the door, ready to invite people in.

            Before he got there, Mickey pushed through the crowd. His jaw dropped when he saw the scene before him and he looked around before his eyes landed on Ian. “What... I thought you destroyed everything.”

            “I did,” Ian said. He took a tentative step towards Mickey. “But... well, you love Christmas. And I couldn’t... I didn’t want you to be sad today because of me, all right?”

            Mickey exhaled a small puff of a laugh. Tears sparkled in his blue eyes. “You’re such a jackass,” he whispered.

            “I know.”

            Mickey grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered.

            Ian smiled. “Merry Christmas, Mick.”


End file.
